


hand in unlovable hand

by Jace_Diaz_Of_Hell



Series: the dreamlands [2]
Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Second person POV, god i fucking hate luke, very barely implied rape/noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 04:41:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14825438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jace_Diaz_Of_Hell/pseuds/Jace_Diaz_Of_Hell
Summary: jace is nothing like you. she's sweet and vulnerable andgood, and you know you'll be the death of her. you love her, but not enough to leave her.





	hand in unlovable hand

Your name is Luke Johnson, and you're six years old when your baby sister is born.

 

You don't hate her, but you don't love her either. Mostly she's just a curiosity.

 

You're thirteen years old when she wanders in on your spell and collapses, her breathing cutting off and eyes going glassy as she stares at you. She's seven years old and dead and for the first time you wonder briefly what she might have thought of you.

 

You don't bother blaming yourself- how could it be _your_ fault? You've _told_ her time and time again not to just barge in.

 

(You carefully avoid thinking about how you had planned it for a time when she would come in.)

* * *

You're twelve years old when you see Jace for the first time, and you swear to _god_ your heart stops beating for a second.

 

She is beautiful and good and seems so _frail,_ somehow, in that reddish light that fills the Underworld.

 

Your parents whisper back and forth about disgrace, about half-breeds _in the monarchy,_ about how the children are _weak,_ but all you can think about is the way the second princess smiled at the crowds shyly, clinging to her older sisters side and ocassionally signing at her younger sister.

 

You don't know how or when, but someday you're going to make that girl yours.

* * *

You're thirteen when your Unwritten Library breakin pans out and finally becomes successful.

 

You hide yourself in the Dreamlands while the girl uncurls. Her hair is as black and dark as yours is, her skin is only slightly paler than Jace's, and her markings are bright green. Her eyes are teal as she pulls her T-Shirt down and stands to explore.

 

Carefully, ever so carefully, you reach into her mind.

 

_Your name is Amaranth Isabelle Johnson._

* * *

You're seventeen when she finally, _finally_ becomes your girlfriend. 

 

She's upset that her sister ran off and she's making what her family probably thinks of as _questionable_ decisions but one of those includes hooking up with you, so you are very much not protesting.

 

And she loves you.

 

She loves _you._

 

Jace is nothing like you. She's sweet and vulnerable and _good,_ and you know you'll be the death of her. You love her, but not enough to leave her. You need her too much for that.

 

And you hate the fact that you do need her- for so much of your life you've been self-sufficient, never needing anyone, not even when you've been up all night because of wounds your dad gave you.

 

So you decide you'll try not to get too close. It's not going to be long before she leaves you, anyways.

* * *

You fail.

 

You love her. You're entirely, head over heels in love with this beautiful woman. She's not the saving grace you thought she might be, but your world is better with her in it and now you'll be _damned_ if you let her go.

 

And she stays.

 

She stays with you through it all- when bruises begin to discolor her skin, when you're so jealous you can't _think,_ when all you know is rage and all she knows is pain, she stays.

 

She stays when she realizes just how _fucked up_ you are, when you pin her down and cut open her cheek, threatening her for speaking to one of _your_ friends.

 

She stays, and you watch the light dim in her eyes, watch her start to flinch at shadows, see how you are _draining the life out of her._

 

And you know you should care about that because you _love_ her, love her so much it hurts, but somehow you don't care. You _need_ her, and at this point she needs you too.

* * *

For Valentines Day you give Jace the necklace that was hanging from your rearview mirror the night _it_ happened.

 

You miss the terror that fills her eyes for a brief second, but you catch the smile she gives you, the way she lifts her hair and asks you to put it on for her.

 

(You don't see her cringe every time she feels the necklace there again, don't realize it feels like she's being strangled by wearing it.)

 

A week later she's sitting in the car sipping a corn shake, trying to do Science homework and asking you what an eon is.

 

_A billion years. Do you think we'll be together for an eon, Jace?_

 

**_I hope so, Luke._ **

 

You don't know everything. But you know that when or if you ever go down, you will drag Jace down with you.

 

Because you love her.

 

 


End file.
